


Perennial

by MrMissMrsRandom



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon Typical Violence, Dancer Felix and Falconknight Ingrid Mercs Incorporated, F/M, Post-Crimson Flower, Sylvain's ghost is laughing and weeping at these idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:47:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23518675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrMissMrsRandom/pseuds/MrMissMrsRandom
Summary: Felix and Ingrid had spent so much time taking lives that they didn't realize they could still create it.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Ingrid Brandl Galatea
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	Perennial

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dameceles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dameceles/gifts).



The bandit camp was harder to handle than expected. Felix shot forth another burst of Thunder at an archer as Ingrid flew over her pegasus, Lorazieh. Instead of desperate, starving men that were forced to pick up tools of battle, they were semi-trained, disciplined. If they were regular mercenaries, he and Ingrid would have been slaughtered. 

That town was a pack of liars, too afraid to do their own dirty work. He ran into the fort, brandishing his sword to take out any other enemies he encountered on his way. The Aegis shield on his back offered some protection, but his sword offered more as he hacked his way through several more enemies on the narrow staircase to get to the top. The only sound being their final screams at their blood hitting the walls. 

When he reached the top, he saw the displaced noble who had started this nonsense in the first place be run through by Lúin’s blade. 

Unlike his appearance, Ingrid’s uniform was still clean of gore. The only sign of battle was the sweat plastering her hair against the sides of her face and her overexerted expression. 

“Good?”

“Yeah,” Ingrid said. 

“Those bastards lied to us.” Felix spat, walking over to Lorazieh to grab his coat in one of the saddlebags. He would have to wash later. Performers didn’t get coins when they reeked of the battlefield. 

But Ingrid didn’t say anything, only walking the minimal distance away from the corpse, and began undoing her armor and unbuttoning the front of her jacket underneath.

“... What are you doing?” 

“I can’t  _ breathe  _ in this. My chest feels sore.”

“Idiot, don’t lie about your condition!” Felix marched back over with one of their remaining vulneraries to pat her down before Ingrid shoved him away as she hissed in pain.

“I told you I’m fine,” Ingrid replied through grit teeth. “It just aches. It will pass.”

Felix sighed. He then walked back and dug deeper into the saddlebag to find her looser civilian shawl. “Then wear this, and pack up your armor. Its the only thing protecting you from a well-placed arrow.”

“I know, Felix,” Ingrid answered wearily but took the garment. “... Thanks.” 

Felix didn’t reply, only going back to the corpse to get proof of their complete job.

* * *

“We offer immense thanks and humble ourselves to the skills of your company--”

“Where is the gold you promised.” Felix cut off the pleasantries. 

Another man on the council, stood up to address them. “Ah, unfortunately, the harvest has not yet been sold. So we have… limited funds.” 

“...” Felix let out a harsh bark of a laugh. So those bastards had sent them on an obvious suicide mission and had the gall to say they couldn’t pay? He turned to Ingrid. “This is what you get when you don’t ask for half payment upfront.”

“If the harvest was just made, how much will you give us for our job?” Ingrid pressed. 

“W-we have three bags of grain, and our fisherman came back three days ago with a large bounty that we’ve already preserved.”

“We’ll take it,” Ingrid answered, simply and efficiently.

“You can’t be serious,” Felix said. “We risked our lives, and that’s all we’re getting for it?”

“They don’t have the gold, so what choice do we have? Besides, we need to move on to another town anyway, if this was their only job for us.” 

“Gold doesn’t rot.” 

“Uh, should we… prepare a cart?”

“Yes,” Ingrid replied before Felix could refuse.

* * *

“When will you learn not to think with your stomach.” Felix hissed.

“Hush. Did you see how those people looked? They wouldn’t have been able to pay even coin from next years’ harvest without starving themselves.” 

“Know from experience?” Felix replied, recalling the barrenness of Galatea lands. 

Ingrid was silent, simply pulling her hand into the box and taking out a jar of pickled herring.

“Ugh, can you wait? That stuff is disgusting--”

Felix cut himself off when he saw how green Ingrid’s face turned the moment opened the jar, dropping and immediately vomiting on the ground.

Felix walked stood beside her, dumbfounded. Ingrid would eat anything with relish.  _ Anything _ . He remembered her looking the happiest when she had some pickled herring on toast as their comrades gagged around her. Something was wrong.

“Are you--” The moment he put an arm around her shoulder, she vomited again. 

Screw the payment and Ingrid’s pride, they were heading directly to a healer.

* * *

Two hours later, they were walking out of the healer’s cottage, side by side but not touching. Ingrid had a small cloth bag filled with herbs that would help with her morning sickness. Because that was what caused her nausea.

Ingrid was silent. 

Felix hated it, it made him say something foolish. “Well, now we know why your clothes haven’t been fitting right.” 

Ingrid shoved his arm, but it wasn’t enough to topple him.

“You need to be serious about this Felix! What… what are we supposed to do?!” 

Felix looked at the bag clutched in her hand. “When you were talking to the healer by yourself, did you ask if there was… something, that could fix this?”

“She said I was too far along,” Ingrid says, then, uncharacteristically, swears, and curls her arms around herself. “...This is the last thing I ever expected from us.” 

They had taken so many lives, perhaps they had forgotten they could create it. And that creation… the possibility of the child developing a crest…

“Yeah, I guess that shows how idiotic we were,” Felix said. 

“You’d think us knowing Sylvain would warn us--” Ingrid then paused. “... How the hell did Sylvain not get a girl with child, and we--”

Felix, though he would never say it out loud, wish he had listened to Sylvain when he tried to talk to them about “safely sowing wild oats” back at the Academy. He had never expected to need it. 

“... How long did she say, before you need to settle down?”

“Four Moons,” Ingrid replied. “Maybe sooner, if I can’t ride Lorazieh.”

“Then its time to start looking for somewhere to settle,” Felix replied. “I’m not carrying you everywhere.”

“Hmph, like I’d let you,” Ingrid replied, and then, uncharacteristically, leaned against him. “...Felix, thank you.”

Felix gingerly wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Shut up. This is… this has to do with both of us. Like hell am I leaving you alone.” 

After all, in this world with no goddess, they were all either had left.


End file.
